Christian Nationalism: Who Wants it?

“Be careful what you wish for,” runs the adage. Wishing, however, doesn’t matter much to most of us. When did wishing ever make it so?

“Be careful what you pray for” should matter to those who pray to Yhwh, Maker of heaven and earth. Yhwh is the living God, and he makes things so.

Christian nationalism is in the news because it is so entwined with the Trump administration. And what happens in America happens to the rest of the world.

Meanwhile, forms of Christian nationalism ascend in Europe. Viktor Orbán, a cynical despot, wraps himself in it as he dominates Hungary. The Alternative for Germany (AfD) is on the rise while the National Rally threatens to take power in France. Reform UK makes advances in Britain while Freedom parties in the Netherlands and Austria have recently won elections.

But isn’t this a Good Thing, from a Christian point of view? Aren’t Christians to be patriots, loyal to country as loyal to family? Won’t nations be bettered if ruled by people following Christian principles?

It depends. Boy, does it ever.

I have recently offered an account of Christian nationalism here. That small book provides historical, sociological, theological, and ethical perspective on Christian nationalism. I hope you’ll give it a serious look.

Today, I’m in sermonic mode. So let’s turn in our Bibles to Isaiah 6:1: “In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple.”

That sounds like the start of a wonderful story. Isaiah got to experience what precious few others did in the whole history of Israel. He got to see Yhwh.

Christians pray for, and sing about, this sort of experience all the time. “Lord, we just want to see you!”—or some other version of that plea—resounds in churches everywhere every Sunday. What an honour for Isaiah! What a delight!

Except . . . Isaiah isn’t delighted.

Isaiah’s vision comes, he says, in the year King Uzziah died. You might not remember that king, but Isaiah has vivid memories of him. And those memories surely prompted his panic.

Uzziah reigned over Judah for more than half a century. He was a tremendous success as king—until he wasn’t. II Chronicles devotes an entire chapter to his reign (26) and it included military triumph, strategic strengthening of both army and capital city, and agricultural progress. Surely this is a record the people of God would have sought from a godly ruler.

Alas, Uzziah thought that he was qualified to be Number One in everything—as despots do. So he entered the temple of the Lord (only for priests) to burn incense to God (only for priests).

“Azariah the priest with eighty other courageous priests of the Lord followed him in. They confronted King Uzziah and said, ‘It is not right for you, Uzziah, to burn incense to the Lord. That is for the priests’ (vv. 17–18). It has become a cliché “to speak truth to power,” but that’s exactly what these brave priests did: to a man who could have had them killed on the spot by a single word.

Uzziah responds with anger at Yhwh’s representatives, not humility. But Yhwh himself gets angry at Uzziah’s insolence and presumption. And Yhwh wins.

“While he was raging at the priests in their presence before the incense altar in the Lord’s temple, leprosy broke out on his forehead” (v. 19). God might as well have written “CURSED” right across Uzziah's face.

That awful disease was so feared that anyone manifesting it spent the rest of his life in impoverished shadows, isolated from all normal life. Everybody sees Uzziah’s situation the same way: “When Azariah the chief priest and all the other priests looked at him, they saw that he had leprosy on his forehead, so they hurried him out. Indeed, he himself was eager to leave, because the Lord had afflicted him” (v. 20).

Uzziah started so well as king. He did so much for his nation. But then he wanted more than his share of power and prestige. He wanted to dominate the heart of God’s people by presiding in worship. He wanted to be the spiritual centre. His narcissism flowered, so leprosy followed. And it followed him all the days of his life—and beyond.

“King Uzziah had leprosy until the day he died. He lived in a separate house—leprous, and banned from the temple of the Lord. Jotham his son had charge of the palace and governed the people of the land. . . . Uzziah rested with his ancestors and was buried near them in a cemetery that belonged to the kings, for people said, ‘He had leprosy’” (vv. 21, 23).

That was the last word on Uzziah: leper. Cursed by God.

In the wake of this unfaithfulness followed by shocking retribution, Isaiah suddenly sees the Judge Himself appear in the same place Uzziah had so disastrously overstepped: the temple. And Isaiah, rationally, is terrified.

“’Woe to me!’ I cried. ‘I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty.’”

“More, Lord” or “More Lord”?

In charismatic circles, one hears people pray using the words “more” and “Lord.” Being a stickler for correct grammar, I always wonder if they include a comma.

Do they merely want “more” spiritual experience such as they have previously enjoyed? Healing, perhaps, or just happiness? Do they merely want more of the same thing, so that the party never stops? If so, they (implicitly) include the comma and are praying for “more, Lord.”

Do they want, instead, more of God himself? Many earnest believers seem to. And if so, then the comma drops away and their prayer is for “more Lord”!

Christian nationalists nowadays seem to want both “more, Lord” and “more Lord.” They want more God in government, more Jesus in jurisprudence, and more Christ in culture.

Or so they think. Another prophet, however, pulls us up short: “’Then suddenly the Lord you [say you] are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you [say you] desire, will come,’ says Yhwh Almighty” (Malachi 3:1).

The words in square brackets indicate the prophet's sardonic tone. But why the sarcasm? Isn’t it commendable that God’s people want more God?

Here’s how Malachi continues: “But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap” (3:2).

That sounds like “more Lord” might not be merely “more, Lord.” And it isn’t.

Instead, God says, “’I will come to put you on trial. I will be quick to testify against sorcerers, adulterers, and perjurers, against those who defraud laborers of their wages, who oppress the widows and the fatherless, and deprive the foreigners among you of justice, but do not fear me,’ says the Lord Almighty” (3:5).

God will prosecute his people whose lives manifest corruption, whose businesses exploit the vulnerable, whose policies hurt the needy, and whose forces mistreat foreigners they are supposed to welcome with hospitality.

If the Lord Yhwh really did answer all those Christian nationalist prayers for “more Christ in Christmas,” how would Christmas celebration then have to change—from a barely baptized bacchanalia to a season of godly repentance, charity, and worship? If the Lord Yhwh really did suddenly come to our temples, our lazy, comfortable “worship” would be exposed as the mere pep rally it has become for too many.

If the Lord Yhwh really did make America great—as the gospel counts greatness—the mighty would be brought low and the poor lifted up, just as Jesus’ mother prophesied in her Magnificat. The leaders would become true servants, and we would look to true servants to be our leaders.

Check the news: Who nowadays are the powerful, and who are the oppressed? What does the Bible say they can look forward to from more God?

If Christian nationalism is truly wanting the rule of Christ over all, I’m all for it—except I feel woefully unready for it. Our churches aren’t ready for it, either: not here in Canada, not in the God-blessed U.S.A., not in Europe, not anywhere—except maybe in hard-pressed places, such as China, or Iran, or Nigeria, where Christians live demanding lives of authentic godliness.

Lent starts soon, one of the two great seasons in the church year devoted to preparing ourselves and our lives for the coming of God. However we feel about Christian nationalism, let’s not miss this opportunity to put Christ back into Christianity.